Author's note: This was never going to happen. I seriously never intended to write this sequel, let alone another story again so soon after finishing the last one, with a couple more on the go and no time in which to write any of them. But you bastards kept asking me if I was going to write another one. Turn it into a long series, you said. Hah! I only had one idea, and I used it! Where am I going to get a series from?
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She was dressed inappropriately, but the bar's manager was prepared to waive the point given her escort for the evening. Technically she was wearing pyjamas, but he was prepared to accept that they were silk pantaloons and a loose matching black silk top. The rather too obvious absence of a bra could pass given the lighting. Besides, it made him happy to look at her. He hadn't ever been entirely contented with how she treated her men.
Serena, on the other hand, had always made him utterly contented. She had told him so. And from the look of Angelina's face, Serena had told her to be happy as well. Maybe not with any specific reason in mind, but definitely happy. The barman had every reason to be happy - the thigh-high stilettos revealed by the gash in her calf-length vinyl skirt, the lace-up leather vambraces, the lace-edged strapless corset that left her with a cleavage so large and firm it defied perception...
A flash of a long-fingered hand showed him that she didn't need the spare key. And one of the bar-girls was already mixing them two drinks, one of them scarlet for the short, waif-like woman with the stylish black leather dog-collar around her neck, one tall, clouded and strangely multi-coloured for the tall, god-like woman with the deep V studded collar around her neck.
"You're still giving her the same drink?" the bartender asked, giving Serena the slightly unfocused lusty puppy look that she enjoyed.
"Of course. It's a very effective muscle relaxant."
The manager's look changed to that of a man whose imagination has filled in the details, and found them desirable.
Serena glanced sideways, to where one of the girls was washing glasses. "Chantelle!"
The barmaid's breasts instantly appeared behind the bar, followed by the rest of the barmaid. "Yes, Mistress?"
"Are you thirsty, Chantelle?"
The manager's expression changed to that of a man who has just had his arse grabbed. Together, the two disappeared rapidly out the back.
Serena laughed, deep in her throat. Angelina, whose expression was that of a girl whose attention was perpetually not quite there, merely continued to sip her drink.
"Come, girl."
Serena lead the way along the bar towards the door marked Employees only. She opened it with practised ease and walked through, letting it swing shut on Angelina's heels. The second door was also passed, and then through an empty room and through a long staircase into a well-lit basement dungeon.
Serena turned around, to see that Angelina had, as previously instructed, finished her drink and was standing holding it with a vacant smile on her face. "Throw that away."
Obediently, the slender girl, moving only her arm from the elbow, hurled the glass into the shadows, where it smashed loudly against a wall.
"Now take that top off."
Obediently, the girl peeled off her black silken top, revealing small, naked breasts and prominent nipples. The top was discarded at her feet.
"Now the pants."
The pants she just stepped out of, tugging at the cord to loosen it, pushing them off her feet and letting them drop, revealing tiny black lace-trimmed panties.
"Over here."
The girl, wearing only panties and high heels, walked over to where her Mistress was standing, underneath a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, and underneath a pair of hanging, fur-lined cuffs.
Serena grabbed both her wrists, yanked them up brusquely and locked them tight inside the cuffs. Angelina could stand comfortably, without stretching. Serena bent down, put two more clamps around Angelina's ankles, then walked off to one side.
There was a click, and the lights were extinguished except for the bulb directly above Angelina's head. Another click, a whirr of motors, and Angelina was slowly stretched upwards until she was suspended, feet stretched out, before a third click and the whirring stopped.
"Wake up, bitch."
Angelina jerked as though she had been stabbed, gasped, and for a few seconds her face was filled with confusion as she jerked reflexively against the bonds around her wrists, eyes wide and darting from side to side, before her mind took over again and she worked out where she was and what was happening.
Then her eyes stilled, but filled with hate. "Why are you doing this to me?" She hissed.
"Now that is an interesting question, my dear slut! Did you ever stop to consider the opinions of the men you captured? No, I don't think so. I am doing this to you for two very good reasons: The way you fucked with me when you targeted my husband, and because I think you'll be a good little toy and I want you myself. And before you try to argue about me targeting you: You already lost your rights!"
"Fuck you."
"Later, later, don't be so eager! You're doing what you're told, when you're told! And that includes cumming. So let's see what's in the kit for you today!"
Angelina jerked against her bonds, making her Mistress grin, wickedly, even with her back turned. When she turned back from her table, she was holding a long acrylic dildo with two wires leading from the base. "You're going to enjoy this, slut."
"Try and make me", Angelina gasped.
